Written Desires
by DowagerInTraining
Summary: eady-of-old gave me the idea for this fic on Tumblr. John and Anna are reunited after his release from prison, but the cottage is not ready! Anna longs to find a way around their separation. John has other ideas, and begins writing secret notes to Anna during his copious free time. It's not M yet, but it will be... DISCLAIMER DA is not mine but it is fun to borrow!
1. Chapter 1

"His Lordship promised to look into a cottage for us soon."

"I'm sure he will. I'm just sorry it couldn't be ready before you came home."

"For the best of reasons though. Everything came together so quickly..."

John smiled down at Anna, perched next to him sipping tea. The other servants sat around, in small groups, sharing the day's news, but John was left in peace after the surprise of his return that morning and a thorough grilling over luncheon.

"I can't say I'm sorry to have you home quickly."

Anna laid her hand on his. Just to be able to reach out and touch him was a wonderful thing. Surely they could wait for everything else. He was here. He was safe. That was all that mattered.

"Alright everyone, back to work now..." Mr Carson hauled to his feet, the rest of the staff following.

"See you at dinner."

A kiss was impossible, but John poured all of the emotion and longing of one into his eyes. Anna quailed inwardly at the intensity of his expression. Her knees shook as she went upstairs to lay out Lady Mary's outfit for the evening meal. Perhaps this wasn't going to be as easy as she had thought.

…

The moon was scudded with clouds, but the light from the windows in the scullery gave them enough to see.

Not that their eyes were open.

Hidden away in a shadowed corner, John wrapped Anna into his arms, pulled her close into him as their lips met, softly at first, but swiftly growing more passionate. The sensation of being able to hold his wife again, being able to kiss her, inhale her scent, stroke his fingers over her hair, it was overwhelming.

Anna's hands clutched at his overcoat, as though she would never let him go. She had dreamed of this moment through the long nights of their separation, holding close the memories of their one night together.

Now that it loomed before them, the prospect of separating for the night was devastating.

"I don't want you to go..."

"Anna..."

"Can't we find a way?"

With every fibre of his being, John wanted to say yes. But he dared not. If he were caught sneaking into the maid's corridor, he would be sacked. Anna might be his wife, but the embarrassment and impropriety to the other maids would be beyond Mr Carson's forgiveness. And he did not know or trust the other footmen, let alone Thomas, to hold their tongues if they heard anything from his room in the men's corridor, and this embrace alone had been proof that silence would be beyond them.

"Anna darling, the risk, it's too great."

"Oh, I know."

Anna pulled back, disappointment spread across her lovely face.

"Come now, at least I am here. Not still in that cell."

"I've longed for you to come home for so long John, it never occurred to me that we couldn't be together once you were here."

"Shhhh... it's not for long."

"But still..."

"Locking up now!"

Mrs Hughes' voice rang across the courtyard. With a last kiss and sighs of disgruntlement, Anna and John straightened themselves out and went indoors. With one last look of longing, it was time for bed.

…

The following morning they were both pale, with dark shadows beneath their eyes.

"I didn't sleep a wink last night," Anna yawned.

"Me neither. I was afraid I would wake and it would all be a dream."

"But here you are." Anna's eyes were tired, but her smile was bright as the sun at high noon. It warmed John through to his core.

"Do you have duties today?"

"His lordship has ordered me to rest until things get sorted out with Thomas. He suggested I stay in bed and read books, but I have had enough of that."

"What will you do instead?"

"Walk into the village I think..."

"I wish I could come with you, but I'm needed here today."

"No matter. There will be other days," John leaned closer and whispered softly, under the pretence of reaching for a piece of toast. "And other nights..."

Anna's cheeks flushed and her eyes shone. Gently she swatted him on the forearm.

"Behave, you!"

"Only while I must..."

His smile, reflected in his eyes, was almost too much to bear. With immense concentration, Anna finished her breakfast and tried not to picture taking her husband back upstairs to bed for the rest of the morning...

…

When Anna went upstairs to change for the evening, she was surprised to see a note shoved under her door. Her name was written on the front in dearly familiar handwriting.

She smiled to herself, wondering what he was up to.

 _My beautiful wife,_

 _It occurs to me, that while I can't act on all of my wishes and do things to you that I dreamed of during my time away, I can still tell you about them._

 _Last night, tearing myself away from you was torture. The feel of your lips against mine was a dream. I long now for the taste of you, to feel you move against me in my arms, to be wrapped in yours. Had we had more time, had I been braver, I would have stroked my hands over every curve of you, every line of your body, reacquainting myself with every inch of you. In one night, I knew you so intimately, I long for our next time together, with all of my soul._

 _Until then, my words will have to keep you company as you undress and sleep alone. Just know I will be close by, thinking of you, of the touch of your fingers and the feel of your skin and the scent of you. And so much more._

 _Yours ever,_

 _JB_

Anna's face flushed and she clutched at the door frame to steady herself as she read the note. Her stomach churned with desire. Oh wicked man, to torture her like this, and yet... She longed to know more. How he thought of her, what he had dreamed of her while he had been kept away. How he wanted to please her, how he would touch her...

Hastily Anna stuffed the note back into its envelope and hid it under her mattress.

There would be time to read it again later, after dinner.

Shaking herself to regain her composure, Anna hurried to dress and return to work.


	2. Chapter 2

**These are the only two chapters I have written for this fic so far. There will be more, but I am about to go off on holiday to a place where there is no internet (!) for the next two weeks. So please bear with me and when I get back in mid September, there will be a lot more chapters to follow!**

"I got your note."

He said nothing. Only smiled.

"You are a wicked man, John Bates?"

"How so? For telling my wife that I love her, and long for her?"

They spoke quietly, under the hubbub of the general conversation at dinner.

"You made me all hot and flustered reading that, Lady Mary thought I'd sat too close to a fire."

"But you liked it."

His eyes were dark with passion, mischievous and filled with desire. Anna's breath caught in her throat.

"Oh yes..." she breathed.

"Then I shall have to write to you again. I have leisure to do so for these days to come."

How could he sit there so calmly, tucking into Mrs Patmore's stew and dumplings, while Anna's hand shook when she picked up her glass of water?

"You will pay for this, husband."

"You could always tell me not to bother..."

"Don't you dare."

He chuckled to himself under his breath, before he was drawn into a discussion with Alfred about the sports results in the paper from that morning.

Anna sat and smouldered, wondering desperately how long it would be before they would have a place of their own.

…

The following afternoon, there was another note.

Anna had raced through her afternoon tasks, allowing herself an extra five minutes to change, in hopes that there would be. John had not disappointed her.

 _My dearest minx_

 _I couldn't sleep last night for thinking of you. You've been in my dreams so many times while I've been away. I would turn to find you beside me, back in that beautiful room where we spent our first night together, naked and reaching for me, and my heart felt it would explode from beating so fast. I remember the taste of your mouth, your throat, and your stomach, and how soft the skin of your thighs felt wrapped around my waist._

Anna had to sit down, her knees were shaking, the heat between her thighs raging.

 _I would see you, beneath me, looking up at me with those wonderful eyes, so filled with trust and desire. I could hear the small sounds you made, each gasp and soft moan when we came together. I remember how sweet you were, how ready for me, how you moved..._

 _Waking from those dreams was torture, but they were a beacon. A guiding light. Something I had to come back to._

 _Soon, my dearest love. Soon._

 _Yours always,_

 _JB_

Anna's chest felt tight, her hand shook holding the note. Her mouth was dry. How could he do this to her, with words alone? She would be undone by this before the week was out, but couldn't bear to tell him to stop.

…

The night was clear and so the courtyard was crowded. They sat close together, talking softly, but unable to lay a hand on each other.

"You really think of me like that?"

"And so much more..."

"How much more?"

Anna swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, the palms of her hands damp.

"I could tell you, if you'd like..."

"Oh please do..."

"Not now."

A frustrated growl gagged in the back of Anna's throat.

"Locking up now!"

How she was able to stand on her way indoors was a mystery.


	3. Chapter 3

The notes continued. Anna loved every moment she spent with her husband, stolen between duties, and every second she spent wrapped into his arms outside in the courtyard, before the doors to the Abbey were locked for the night, but she had a special affection for the little notes that waited for her each day when she changed for the evening. Sometimes they were sweet and gentle. Sometimes they were so hot, she had to cool her face with fresh water in the bathroom before going to answer the dressing gong.

The most recent had been a poem.

 _My Lady's Hair_

 _Gossamer threads of spun silk  
sliding through my fingers,  
smoothing across the calluses  
of my life.  
A veil of sunlight,  
wreathing an angel's face,  
Sweet as honey, soft as light.  
Soft tresses,  
scented with heather,  
spread across my chest  
as she rises above me,  
in glory and grace.  
By day, she restrains it,  
guards her treasure  
and keeps it trussed up,  
tight and safe.  
By night, it flows  
and fills my dreams... _

Tears spilled down Anna's face, as she read the little piece through twice more. What had she done in her life that was good enough to deserve the love of this romantic man, this poetic soul? Reaching for her clean handkerchief in the drawer beneath the dressing table, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and was struck with an idea.

Slowly Anna unpinned her hair, removed the little cap and let her long honeyed locks fall across her shoulders. She brushed it through, pulling a strand forward, while she rummaged in her sewing box for her small scissors. Carefully, she snipped lose the tress and laid it out across the table, hastily re-bundling and pinning her hair up again.

Running the lock through her fingers, she smiled, cherishing a small plan to repay her husband for the poem.

...

"I loved your poem."

John smiled down at her, a flicker of self consciousness passing over his features.

"It's been a long time since anything moved me to write poetry."

"It was beautiful."

"Not so beautiful as you."

"Do you ... do you really think of me that way?"

"In what way...?"

"You know..." Anna bit her lip as she blushed and leaned closer to whisper in his ear. "Rising above you... in glory and grace..."

John shivered inwardly to hear his words whispered back to him in his wife's voice, picturing her as he had known her in their one night together.

"I rarely think of anything else, when I am trying to sleep. You've always been in my thoughts late at night. I tried not to think of you that way, I liked you, respected you... knowing that you're just a few yards away from me now, when we're wed and we should be together, is almost more than I can bear."

Inwardly, Anna groaned, feeling a pressure of heat rise in her throat and sink deep into her stomach. Desire, pure and simple, beyond reason. Her voice slipped from her lips as she pressed against his shoulder. "Oh John..."

The sound of his name whispered in Anna's soft voice, laced with such raw longing, was more than John could bear.

"Oh my darling..."

He bent to kiss her, his lips finding hers in desperation and longing, inhaling her breath, almost drinking her in. Anna melted beneath his touch, her arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer into her.

The sound of the back door opening jolted them apart in a shock.

"Locking up now," came the familiar cry.

"Wait..." Anna caught John's hand, smiling up at him. "This is for you... at least part of me will be with you tonight." She pressed the small gift into his hand and with a swift kiss on his cheek and an impish grin, she was gone.

Looking down, John found a small loop of plaited golden hair, fastened at each end with neat threads. Lifting it to his lips, he kissed the small trace of his wife's presence, inhaling the musky remains of her scent. Heading back inside, he hoped against hope that the search for their cottage would be over soon.


	4. Chapter 4

"Good morning Mr Bates."

"Good morning Anna."

The ritual of their morning tea was a comforting one. A chance to greet each other, for their eyes to meet and spend a short time sat together, sharing letters and news and information about the day ahead.

"Did you sleep well?"

John occasionally marvelled at how Anna could be so demure and correct, sat neatly, sipping her tea with barely a blush in her cheeks after reading his notes. If it wasn't for the light in her eyes, he would wonder if she'd received them.

"Quite well, thank you Mr Bates."

There was mischief in her face this morning. A slight twist in her smile, that John knew well from their wedding night and his dreams ever night thereafter. Anna was plotting something wicked and the very idea of it melted his stomach in a hot, sweet sensation.

Beneath the table, John became aware of her hand moving, brushing against his leg. When her fingers met his, she slipped a folded square of paper into the palm of his hand.

Just at that moment, the bell for Lady Mary rang.

"Best get on," Anna hurried to her feet, flashing him a smile on her way out.

On instinct, John thrust the note into his pocket, wondering how he might find a moment's privacy to read it. Judging by Anna's expression, if he read it at the table, he would run the risk of blushing.

...

Alone in his room, after breakfast, John unfolded the little square with trepidation.

 _My dear John_

 _Your notes have been a delight. But this is a special request._

 _I long to know how you thought of me, before we were together._

 _Not in your polite countenance and thoughtful consideration, but deep in the night, alone with your imaginings. I long to know what desires and wishes you had for me. Even the ones you tried to deny. Especially the ones you tried to deny._

 _A._ _Bates_

John's knees turned to water. He sank into a chair, his hand shaking as he scanned through the note again. Oh what a minx, what a naughty minx he had married, and he gave thanks for every time she surprised him like this.

Breathing out slowly, he marshalled his thoughts, unlocking the mental safes where he had long since stored all of those deep and secret desires. Pulling his pad of paper and pen towards him, he began to write.

...

For Anna, the day was torturously long. Her path didn't cross with John's all day and she longed to know what he had made of her request. She hoped beyond measure that she hadn't offended him, but she was fairly sure that he would not be. Not after how he had spoken last night and the things he had said to her.

All night, the idea of how she might have featured in his deep and hidden thoughts had tormented her. Early in their friendship and courtship, he had been so stoic. She had changed her mind a hundred times a day, unsure whether he liked her, whether he was just being polite, or whether he had a genuine affection for her.

And all the time, he had been longing for her, as much if not more than she had longed for him, in the slow depths of the night, when sleep was beyond her and the house was silent. When she had lain awake, twisting her hair into her own hands, wracked with guilty desire and desperate to know whether he felt the same for her.

When she went up to change before tea, she found her legs were shaking, and her stomach churning.

Please let him have written what she asked for.

Please.

Her heart leaped to find a stiff wedge of paper stuffed under her door. Scrambling through changing her clothes, Anna hastened to read it, sat perched on the end of her bed.

 _My darling wife_

 _It is not in my power to deny you anything._

 _For long years I denied my feelings about you, even to myself. I didn't believe I had the right to think of you as anything more than a colleague, a pleasant companion to pass spare moments with. I believed it was folly to allow myself to think of anything else._

 _However, my dreams had other ideas._

 _I remember the first dream I had about you. I thought I had woken in the night, to find you sat beside my bed. I didn't realise I was dreaming, I tried to argue with you, to persuade you to leave. Even in my dreams you knew better. You kissed me, and my lips had never experienced such delight. You tasted sweet, cool and soft. The scent of your skin was beautiful, the feel of your hands on me was so intense I could barely breathe._

 _I woke to find my heart racing, skin drenched, my blood pounding. I wished so much for it to be real. I didn't think anything could be so beautiful, so sensual. I didn't believe I would ever be so lucky in my waking life. I have never been more relieved to be wrong._

 _You came to me in my dreams, asleep and half waking, so often. But that is a tale for another time. And now, adieu, until tomorrow, my dearest love._

 _JB_

 _PS If I have agreed to write down my secret desires for you, would you indulge me and do the same? I long to know how I featured in your own secret thoughts before we were wed. I hardly dared hope you would think of me, my curiosity runs wild to know if you did._

The second sheet of paper was blank, waiting for her reply.

Her cheeks flushed and heart racing, Anna reached for a drink of water to calm her raging temperature. She held the glass to her cheeks to cool them, feeling her breath shake through her body.

Memories of her own dreams and longings stirred, teasing the edges of her consciousness. Firmly, resolutely, she pushed them away, determined to concentrate on the evening ahead of her. Later on, when she could be alone, then she would draft her reply...


	5. Chapter 5

That night Anna sat up late, with the light burning low, trying to write her note to John.

The truth was, she didn't know what to say.

Everything she had thought about him early in their friendship, everything she had wanted, had been so transient, so beyond words, that trying to pin it down now was difficult. She'd never discussed those feelings with anyone, and would have sooner died than admitted them to anyone else, she was so afraid that she had been wrong. It had been difficult enough explaining to Mr Carson that they were married when he was arrested and taken away.

What had she wanted?

Anna thought back to the first time she had met Mr Bates. She'd come downstairs with Miss O'Brien to find him standing in the corridor, having come to investigate why nobody answered the door. And what had she thought?

That he looked kindly and friendly. Obviously a hard worker. Someone who would never complain about his lot or workload. His consistent refrain of 'I can manage' had assured her of that. It made such a nice contrast to Thomas and O'Brien's constant whinging.

He'd looked... well... tall. And well built. But most people were next to her. He was dark haired and with nice eyes that looked straight at you, rather than past you. She had liked his voice, with that vague Celtic lilt, and how it was always steady and calming, reassuring. He was a mature man, one of the first of that sort she had met, if she were honest with herself. He wasn't young and foolish like William or Thomas, but not older in the same way as Mr Carson, who she'd always viewed as a father figure.

But these, while nice to think about, were not the source of her passion.

So what had she wanted? When had she first felt that thrill of illicit longing for him?

She remembered a day when the staff had gone into the village to buy trinkets from a travelling salesman. She had remained behind, short on both money and time, with a task list to be completed as long as her arm. She'd resigned herself to a lonely afternoon.

And then he'd appeared, with his own work to do. And when she'd explained where everyone had gone, he'd said...

'Alone at last.'

Even remembering the words Anna shivered. Yes that was it. The idea of being alone with him, the idea that he'd wanted to be alone with her, that he'd thought about it and was pleased about it.

Alone at last.

Feeling the sharp intake of breath fill her lungs and her stomach clench with desire, Anna began to write...

Climbing the stairs after breakfast to go back to his room, John felt as though Anna's note was burning a hole in his pocket. He had been bold asking her to join in with the notes, to write her own, and was overjoyed that he hadn't offended or shocked her. Her wicked smile this morning confirmed otherwise.

He had known in the early days of their friendship that Anna liked him. He had tried to deny it to himself, to brush it off as a silly crush or the novelty of being the new person in the house, but try as he might he couldn't shake the feeling that he was important to her. Now, in hindsight and with the safety of distance, he longed to know how important. He almost tore the note in half in his eagerness to open it.

 _My dear John_

 _This was more difficult to write than I thought. I'm nowhere near as well spoken or well read as you. But you asked me, and I can't deny you anything either so here it is._

 _I knew I liked you the instant that you arrived at Downton, for all the reasons that anyone cherishes in a friend. But the first time I knew I liked you more was in the servants hall, one day when I was cleaning some shoes and you brought your mending work to join me. You commented that we were 'alone at last'._

 _The moment didn't last long, because that dreadful man arrived to see Mr Carson, the other 'Cheerful Charlie'. But the idea of being 'alone at last' with you is still powerful for me._

 _When you said it, when you looked at me, I felt for the first time that you saw me as more than just one of the maids. I felt that you could really see me, and for the first time, I saw you. That night, when I was trying to sleep, I wondered what it would be like to really be alone with you, away from everyone else. Whether you would speak to me, tell me of your feelings. Whether you would reach for me, or kiss me. And in that night, wondering to myself, I found that I wanted you. Since then, I have always wanted you, with all of my soul._

 _I wanted your hand, to hold. To have you kiss me. To know what you tasted like, what your scent was like. I wanted to know how it felt to be in your arms, to hold you in mine. I didn't know then that there was more to want that I could desire, I was so naive. I still want all of those things now, but now I know to want more._

 _But as you said, that's a story for another note._

 _Your own,_

 _A Bates_

He remembered that day.

It had been the source of their first shared joke, the calming of Mr Carson's nerves. And he remembered the comment he'd made to her. 'Alone at last'. He had berated himself for it at the time, worried that he had upset her, or made her feel threatened. In his haste to get away from the idea, he'd stumbled through an insulting conversation about how she was 'supposed' to be head housemaid. Lucky for him she had taken it with a pinch of humour.

The truth was, he had longed to be alone with her, to exchange more than just a few words. To know this graceful, hardworking woman better, and enjoy her sharp wit and merry tongue, and her beauty, if he was honest. She was so lovely to look at, and he was only a man, after all.

The idea that the same moment had been so important to her was restorative, to know that they had shared the same values and dreams in secret, since the very beginning. It gave him further hope that their time apart in prison, and now in separate rooms, would not have damaged their relationship or their intimacy.

Bates took stock of his paper and resolved to go down to the village and buy more later today. After he had written and delivered his reply.


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter is short. But I hope the content makes up for it ;)**

Outside in the courtyard, Anna waited. Her insides ached with disappointment, as for the first time in weeks, there had been no note from John waiting for her. She shivered in the cold air, longing for him to come outside and join her, and explain why.

She reasoned with herself. He might have been busy. Perhaps he hadn't been able to get into that side of the corridor for some reason. Maybe he had been given some errands for Lord Grantham.

 _Maybe he didn't like the note I gave him._

No.

She wasn't going to think like that.

Behind her, there was a soft sound and a sudden warm presence, and a gentle and beloved voice whispered in her ear.

"Alone at last..."

Anna's knees buckled as his arm slipped around her waist, pulling her back against him, his lips teasing beneath her ear, down the sensitive lines of her jaw, the edge of her throat. She sighed with pleasure, leaning back into his caress, relief and desire washing through her blood like molten metal.

Suddenly, John moved, twisting her so that her back was up against the wall, the shock of the cold sending an elicit thrill straight through her veins. His hands held her firmly at the waist, he pressed close against her, bending his head, his mouth meeting hers.

Anna gasped with delight, her hands clutching at the sleeves of his coat, as his tongue teased against her lips, gently at first, then more insistently. Her lips parted, allowing him to taste her, her body ached with longing as he crushed against her, her back flat against the cold wall, his mouth plundering hers. One hand moved to stroke its way up her side, his fingertips grazing against her breast, teasing along her throat and jaw line.

The kiss broke off suddenly, Anna was left breathless, reeling with desire, gazing into John's eyes, hot with passion, longing for her etched into every line of his face.

"John, what...?"

He cut her question short with another swift, hungry kiss. Anna's stomach churned with pleasure. Oh how she had missed this side of her husband, after such a short and distant taste of his passion on their wedding night.

"That's what I meant." He whispered, hot and insistent, into her ear, his voice rough and urgent, spilling out long held secrets

"What you meant?"

"All those years ago... when I said 'alone at last'. That's what I longed for, wanted to do, ached to do with you."

"Really...?"

"Really. And had I been a younger man, had I been free of my unwise marriage, had I been untarnished by a felon's record and still strong and uninjured, that would have been exactly what I did."

Anna swallowed, her breathing shaky.

"I didn't want you younger," she whispered hoarsely. "I didn't want you any different than you were. I wanted you, exactly as you were. As you are now. I still do, John."

"Oh Anna..."

The next kiss didn't end until Mrs Hughes familiar voice called through the courtyard.

"Locking up now!"

"Wait... here..."

John caught her hand, passing her an envelope. He leaned in and whispered one last time into her ear.

"This is what else I would have done..."

Anna needed an extra second to catch her breath, and straighten her clothes, as her husband gave her one last look which melted her insides and walked inside to go to bed. Her legs trembled all the way up the stairs to her own room, her fingers clutched around the letter, her curiosity running as wild as her desire.


	7. Chapter 7

**So ... who wants to know what was in John's letter?**

 **Read on...**

Alone in her room at last, Anna opened the letter. To her joy, there were several pages. No wonder John hadn't been able to slip it under the door of her room. Huddled into her nightdress, tucked under her blankets, Anna began to read.

 _My darling Anna_

 _We're alone at last. Just you, and my words, and if all has gone well today, you will have had a taste of what I wished for when I first gave you those words._

The memory of John's lips against hers and his hands on her waist made Anna's skin tingle all over.

 _Of course I wanted to hold you, I wanted to kiss you. Any man in his right mind would want that liberty from you. If I had known then what I know now, I wouldn't have been able to resist you. I love the taste of you, the feel of your lips against mine, the sweet touch of your hands against my face. I love the feel of your tongue against my mouth, the way you taste me, as if you can't get enough. Nobody else has ever found me so desirable, and the idea that you not only allow me to touch you, but want me to, is sometimes more than I can comprehend._

 _Had I known then what I know now, I wouldn't have stopped at kissing you, unless you'd wanted me to. And knowing you as I do now, I don't think you'd have wanted me to stop._

Anna's hand shook as she laid the first page to one side. Her blood singed beneath her skin, her hair against the back of her neck felt damp and clammy.

 _I would have been gentle, at first. The softest kiss, the barest taste, I would have wanted your permission for every touch and caress. But if you had kissed me back, the way I know you can, I would have pulled you close into my arms, held you tight and feasted on your mouth._

 _I doubt I would have been able to keep my hands off you. I still remember how you looked in that maid's uniform. So demure, so correct and perfect, but so enticing. I would have slid my hand down from your waist, along the length of your thighs, to see how you would react. I might have cursed that long green skirt you wore, for separating me from your shapely legs._

Anna felt a stronger frission of desire wash through her, making her legs tremble. Her breath caught in her throat.

 _I remember everything about the way you dressed. Those little frills of lace along the top of your apron, the way the lines only enhanced your womanly shape, rather than concealing you. Those little buttons at the throat, just beneath your chin._

Anna remembered. They had been itchy, uncomfortable, difficult to fasten in the morning when she was still half awake and longing for more sleep.

 _I would have unfastened one, maybe two... perhaps even all three if you had allowed me to. Then, tipped your head back, to kiss my way down that lovely white skin of your throat, teasing you, tasting you, beneath the neck of that dress._

Delirious with desire and aching for her husband's touch, Anna's left fingertips grazed against her throat, remembering the thrill of feeling John's skin against hers, the brush of his stubble late at night, the soft warmth of his mouth, the callouses of his fingers... Echoes of pleasure whispered, growing ever louder within her blood.

 _Had I been bold enough, sure enough that we were alone, I would have lifted you in my arms, sat you on the table in the servants hall, still kissing you, while one hand would have slid the hem of that long green skirt up your legs. To be able to run my hand up your leg, over the curves of your calf, your shapely thighs, up towards your waist. If you had let me, I'd have slid my hand around to that soft, sensitive skin along the inside of your legs. You know where I mean. That soft line of your thighs, where if I stroke just lightly enough, you make the gentlest and most tempting of noises, barely a sigh._

Anna knew she would blush when she sat down to breakfast the next morning, even thinking about such wanton happenings. Barely conscious of her actions, her own hand played with the edge of her night dress, her fingers sliding upwards along her own skin, experimentally. The sensation was nice, but not nearly as nice as when John's hands ran over her just there.

 _Perhaps I would have held you tight against me, to feel your curves pressed against me. Or perhaps I'd have laid you down, allowed my other hand to join in, to stroke against your hips, the tops of your thighs. Maybe even to tease my way inside your undergarments..._

Oh God John, I want you here, why aren't you here... Anna's hand slid further upwards, finding the inside of her thigh already damp with passion.

 _...easing my fingertips between your legs, to stroke at your core, to see what you felt like, to find out if you would like it._

Oh she would have liked it. Anna knew this from John's ministrations upon her body during their long, sleepless wedding night, when he had teased and stroked her, raising her sensations up to a height of pleasure she had never imagined, never even dreamed possible. Her own fingers in concert with John's words stirred a weak echo of those sensations now, a quiver inside her stomach, a soft hot gasp escaping from her own lips, a fluttering in her chest.

 _I would have stroked against the centre of you again, and again, and again, until you begged for release. I think you would have liked it, very much indeed. I know that now, and long to know it again._

She was down to the last page, just a few precious lines left.

 _When we can be together again my darling, I have every intention of knowing that again. Until then, I remain yours, always. Until we can be, once more, alone at last._

 _Sleep well, my love_

 _JB_

Weakened and shaking, her breath hot and harsh, Anna closed her eyes for a few seconds. Images of John swam before her, the longing for his touch was insatiable, such that she could barely withstand it. She ached to go to him, to be with him, to show him what ravages of passion his words had wreaked upon her, to beg him to finish what his letter had started until she was sated once more, as she hadn't been since her wedding night.

 _Soon_ , she whispered cool and soft logic to her screaming emotions and desires. _Soon. We will be together without fear, without worry and then we can give each other everything, and it will be perfect._

In the still of the night Anna sank into a restless sleep, the leaves of John's letter joining the others, tucked beneath her pillow, safe under her left hand.


	8. Chapter 8

"Ah Bates, I'm glad I've caught you."

John put down the book he had been considering in the library and turned at the sound of Lord Robert's voice. He had finally run out of reading material during his enforced rest period and was intending to enter one or two withdrawals into the ledger.

"Is there something you need M'lord?"

"No no, don't trouble yourself, I just wanted to tell you I've seen the agent this morning and he's found a cottage for you and Anna."

Finally. At long last. Was their wait about to be over? Fireworks of excitement began to fizz and crackle deep in John's stomach at the idea of finally being able to set up home with his wife.

"That's very kind of you M'lord."

"Nonsense, my dear fellow, I'm only sorry it's taken so long. We've managed to move one of the tenants from the row just at the end of the drive into the village, so you won't have too long of a journey to walk here in the morning."

Bates felt warmed inside at the consideration Lord Grantham had shown him. Truly, his employer was a good man, kinder and more considerate than many he had encountered. Resolutely he dragged his attention back to what Lord Grantham was saying.

"...bit of a mess I'm afraid, and we're not likely to have chance to get in and clean it up to a great degree. Everyone's working flat out on the next set of repairs and we simply don't have the workforce to spare on the estate right now..."

John, seeing a pause for breath, jumped in.

"I'm sure it will be fine m'lord. Anna and I can clean it up between us, make it our own, so to speak."

Lord Grantham smiled at him kindly, sensing quite plainly the suppressed excitement and emotion almost vibrating beneath the valet's calm demeanour.

"Of course, you'll want to set up home together. Tell you what, why not go along this afternoon and take a look at the place? I'll have a word with Mrs Hughes, I'm sure Anna can be spared for a bit. Then you can take a look and see what needs doing. And if you need anything, be sure to let one of us know."

Lord Grantham fished a large door key out of his pocket, with a ragged label tied around the end of it, and held it out to John.

"That's very generous M'lord, thank you."

"No more than you deserve Bates. The both of you."

Lord Grantham realised that John's silence was due entirely to his attempts to suppress a lump in his throat and blink away a sudden dampness in his eyes.

"I must get on, but I look forward to hearing all about it later once the gong is rung."

Swiftly and tactfully, Lord Grantham made his exit. From the hallway, John heard him calling to Mrs Hughes.

"Ah Mrs Hughes! I've just been having a word with Bates and I wonder if you can spare Anna this afternoon for a while..."

Grinning to himself, fingers clenched around the large, ornate, iron key, John wondered if all keys to paradise were shaped like this.

...

Walking down to the cottage, John hadn't for a moment considered that they would be disappointed by what they found inside.

But at the sight of the dilapidated furniture, dingy walls and the filthy state of the floor, his stomach sank. This was not the cosy cottage they had longed for. It resembled a hovel. However, John never failed to be amazed by Anna's optimism. Within a few minutes, she was tidying furniture, sorting cloths, insisting that it wouldn't be so bad with a lick of paint.

All of a sudden John didn't care about tidying up.

"You being in this room is enough to make it nice..."

Anna's homely instincts were a balm to his senses, but he was captivated by his nimble fingers and deft movements, the soft smile glowing on her face.

He couldn't wait any longer. Catching at the cloth she was folding, he tugged it from her grasp, casting it aside.

"Come here..."

He folded Anna into his arms, relishing her soft giggle, wrapping her close to him for a long kiss.

 _Alone at last._

Sadly, the sofa did not live up to his intentions, one of the legs collapsing beneath them and tipping them backwards. Suddenly they were both laughing, arms around each other, overtaken by the ridiculousness of the situation.

John turned to her, stroked her face, smiling fit to burst his cheeks.

"So what shall we do now?" Anna said softly.

Much as he wanted to stay and make long, sweet love to her, John's desire warred with another instinct, to make their first time together in their new home as perfect as possible.

"Shall we get started on some housework?"

Anna looked a little disappointed.

"If you like."

John pulled her closer against him, to whisper softly into her ear.

"I have waited so long to be with you again, and a hurried embrace among dirt and broken furniture is not what you deserve. When I can make love to you again, I want it to be among clean sheets, comfort, warmth, and the promise of a whole night together..."

Anna's spine tingled with anticipation. He was right. But she didn't want to wait long...

"Well..." she hauled to her feet, pulling him out of the sofa. "We've got work to do..."


	9. Chapter 9

**We're almost at the end of this story now, and I can't wait to write the conclusions. This chapter is more of a set up and rather fluffy rather than naughty, but I hope you enjoy reading it.**

 **Chapter 10 will definitely be M rated. Just saying...**

For the next few days, John was no longer short on things to occupy his time. Every spare minute when he wasn't needed at the house, he laboured down at the cottage, shifting out the old furniture, cleaning out the floor and making a start on painting the walls. Lord Grantham graciously agreed to arrange to transport the unusable broken pieces away and arranged to have some things transferred from another cottage further out on the edge of the estate, which was also vacant and unlikely to be filled for some time.

Anna came down to help as often as she could, anxious to have the place ready to move into. Between them, they discussed what they would need and found that little offers of help materialised throughout the servant's quarters. Old curtains, some mismatched blankets, one or two rugs, slightly squashed cushions and various knickknacks appeared out of Mrs Hughes' cupboards. A selection of plates and crockery and a partial set of cutlery appeared from Mr Carson's store room. In vain he apologised to Anna for the missing bullion spoons and fish forks, which had rendered the set unusable in the dining room any more. Anna swallowed her giggles manfully, and accepted the set which was already far superior to their needs.

Mrs Patmore set Daisy and Ivy to sorting out the cupboards and found old pots and pans for them to use, along with a couple of baking dishes and a kettle. On the last day, John went into Ripon with a list he and Anna had made of things that they wanted, including new linens for the bed and new pillows, while Anna packed up their things and moved them down to the cottage.

Unbeknownst to Anna, John added some small extras to their shopping list, after a bold conversation with Lord Grantham, who was only too eager to play his part in the surprise John had planned.

While, unbeknownst to John, Anna added some to their packing.

...

That evening, as Mrs Patmore's stew simmered in the oven, John waited for Anna to be released from her duties. He had offered to walk up and meet her from the house, but Anna encouraged him to go home, to set everything to rights for their first evening together. She would follow as soon as her duties were done. Lady Mary, with unusual levels of tact, had promised her the evening off once she was dressed for dinner, making do with sharing Madge's help with Edith since there was no company for dinner that night.

Looking round anxiously, John decided that it was all set up as well as it could be. The fire burned brightly in the grate, the curtains were drawn snug and warm across the window and the food's fragrance was just beginning to seep out of the oven. All of his preparations were set and ready, now he just needed his wife.

His Wife.

For the millionth time that week, John closed his eyes in silent prayer, thanking whatever benevolent God which had allowed him to have this experience in his life. He was married to the woman he truly loved, employed in a job where he was valued and respected, surrounded by friends and allies, and finally installed in a home of his own with the woman he loved. How much had his life changed in the last two months? Enough to make anyone believe in the blessings of providence.

"I'm home..."

The sound of Anna's voice saying those two short sweet words was momentarily too much for John, who blinked his eyes rapidly to remove the moisture that gathered there and turned to greet her with a beaming smile.

He was rewarded for his evening's efforts with a gasp and expression of delight.

"Oh my goodness... John, where did you get those? They are beautiful... "

The table was set for dinner, but in the middle stood a china vase, filled with a dozen red roses. Alongside them, stood two graceful and delicate glasses, and a small silver bucket, filled with ice, the golden neck of a bottle protruding from it.

"Is that...?"

"Yes. It is. Champagne."

"John, how did you afford..."

"Come here..."

John smiled, warmly, almost seductively, holding out his hand to Anna, who hadn't even taken off her coat in her shock at such extravagance. Pulling her into his arms, John indulged in the one thing he had desired most all through this interminable day, a long and slow kiss with his wife.

"Don't think you can get round me with romance John Bates," teased Anna, "How did you manage to afford that?"

"First, my dear, it's not a full bottle. It's a quarter sized one, just enough for one glass each. As you know, I prefer not to drink and only accept a glass when it would be unacceptably rude to refuse, and I know you're not used to it after living at Downton so long where Mr Carson has such things under a tight control. However, I wanted to mark this night in the most glorious way possible, as the highest in the land might do."

"How did you know where to find one?"

"I asked Lord Grantham. He was able to suggest a good supplier in Ripon, and even arranged the credit for it. It's a small amount to add to his order list, which will be paid back at a shilling per week out of my wages. He was willing to supply a larger bottle from the Abbey's own cellars, but I thought that might be imprudent and rather wasteful. After all, we might not like it."

As he spoke, John had removed the small bottle with a tea cloth, and was in the process of wiping it down, unwrapping the foil and removing the wire cage.

"Are you sure we can aff..."

"My darling wife," John interrupted her gently. "I have been longing for this moment for months. At times in the last two years, I doubted it would ever happen at all. Please..." He twisted the bottle expertly, capturing the cork in the cloth with not a drip spilled, pouring it gently into the waiting glasses. "Allow me to spoil you, and let us celebrate in style that the Crawleys would envy."

He passed a glass to Anna, half filled with delicious smelling golden wine, the bubbles fizzing enticingly.

"I've never had champagne before."

"Me neither. So this is another new thing we can try together."

He raised his glass and gently 'tinged' it against hers.

"To us," he saluted.

"To us," echoed Anna with a smile, taking a sip. The bubbles tickled her nose. The sharp taste took a second to accustom her tongue to, but the scent of flowers and luxury was wonderful and the strength of it was heady, far more potent than the red wine that Mr Carson served on New Year's Eves.

"Mr Bates, are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Do I need to?" grinned John wickedly, as he set his glass down and went to retrieve dinner.

"You should know better than that after all those notes..."

"Let's eat then. And then we can go to bed."

Anna felt a warm flood of desire and happiness fill her very being, right down to her toes. That sounded like an excellent plan to her.

...

No stew had ever tasted so good. No chairs had ever been so comfortable, and no meal they had ever shared had been so filled with laughter and affection. As the fire burned low and the last scraps were eaten, and the glasses of delicious Champagne were finally emptied, it was time for bed.

"Shall we?"

John was on his feet, his hand held out. Anna kissed him on the cheek.

"You go up," she said warmly. "I won't be long, I just want to wash the grime off while there's some warm water left."

"Alright... but don't be long, or I will come looking for you."

"I won't be, I promise."

Once he was safely upstairs, Anna hastened over to the bag she had smuggled in and left just inside the door. He had given her his surprise. Now it was time for hers...

Shaking out the contents, suppressing a giggle of nostalgia and wicked anticipation, she hurried through her wash at the kitchen sink and hastened to get ready for bed.


	10. Chapter 10

**As promised - a steamy conclusion. Enjoy, dear Banna fans!**

No stew had ever tasted so good. No chairs had ever been so comfortable, and no meal they had ever shared had been so filled with laughter and affection. As the fire burned low and the last scraps were eaten, and the glasses of delicious Champagne were finally emptied, it was time for bed.

"Shall we?"

John was on his feet, his hand held out. Anna kissed him on the cheek.

"You go up," she said warmly. "I won't be long, I just want to wash the grime off while there's some warm water left."

"Alright... but don't be long, or I will come looking for you."

"I won't be, I promise."

Once he was safely upstairs, Anna hastened over to the bag she had smuggled in and left just inside the door. He had given her his surprise. Now it was time for hers... Shaking out the contents, suppressing a giggle of nostalgia and wicked anticipation, she hurried through her wash at the kitchen sink and hastened to get ready for bed.

...

John was sat in bed, reading. Or rather, he was pretending to himself that he was reading, as his eyes slid off the page and kept flicking up towards the door, waiting for Anna to appear.

He could hardly wait and hoped desperately that she was as eager for their physical reunion as he was. He hoped so, an informed hope too from the notes they had exchanged. She had been so eager in her desire for him, so forthcoming about her feelings that even reading them through gave him shivers of anticipation and left his palms damp with sweat.

At long last, after what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes, he heard her footsteps tripping up the stairs.

There was a little knock at the door, which made him smile. The door opened a crack.

"Mr Bates?" she said softly.

John almost wanted to laugh at her teasing. Then he saw how she was dressed.

Anna wore her old uniform, the long green dress, overlaid with the white apron, the lace edges just as he'd remembered them. She had even bundled up her hair beneath the white half cap that Mrs Hughes insisted upon. She looked as if she had walked out of the fantasy he had written for her, out of every longing and wish he'd cherished whilst in prison, replaying old memories and conversations and affectionate exchanges in his mind.

"I hope you won't find me too forward if I suggest spending the night in here, with you, tonight."

John couldn't speak. His throat was dry, his lips parched and no sound would emerge from them. His eyes ran up and down over her, recalling every time he had longed to take her in his arms, to hold her, kiss her, and more...

Anna smiled to see him so speechless, silently congratulating herself on the success of her surprise. Slowly, swaying her hips just so, she walked over and sat down on the bed, sliding her hand up his leg over the blankets.

"I hope that you won't mind..." she purred softly, leaning closer to him. "It's just... I have wanted to, ever since I first saw you, when you arrived here..."

Gently, her lips met his, the most light and sensual of touches, as shy and nervous as she had been the first time he had kissed her. John shivered, lost in a dream, feeling the fire rise in his blood when her tongue gently ran across his bottom lip.

Before he could reach for her, she pulled back, a teasing and coy expression upon her face.

"Unless, of course, you don't want me to stay ... Mr Bates..."

John's arms remembered how to move, reaching for her hurriedly, not caring about the book, which slid to the floor with a thump.

"Of course I want you to stay... now, kiss me again..."

She tasted delicious, he could still taste the last sip of champagne as his tongue slid past her lips, his hands reaching up to play with the soft coil of her hair, trapped beneath the white lacy cap. He felt her soften, heard her moan slightly beneath the touch of his shaking fingers. The kiss broke apart, leaving both of them breathless with desire. John's eyes drank her in, his fingers stroking at the side of her face, marvelling at how her blue eyes could see right into his soul.

"So... what exactly have you wanted..?"

His voice was ragged, hoarse with longing. He hardly dared move in case he broke this spell.

Anna's eyes narrowed slightly, her beautiful, kissable mouth curving into a smile. Slowly she leaned closer, gently pushing him back until he was laid in bed with her leaning over him.

"Just you..." she whispered, her voice a soft plea of longing. "All of you..."

With one more kiss, John's mind melted with desire. Turning swiftly, he pulled her over him, onto the bed. Anna gasped as she landed flat on her back, looking up to see him gazing down at her, eyes burning like coals, hot with passion.

"Oh you can have all of me, Anna... you can have whatever you want from me..."

With one hand, he unfastened the cap, tossing it behind him onto the floor. Her hair tumbled down onto her shoulders, a soft golden cloud. John threaded his fingers into it, slowly massaging her scalp, feeling her writhe against him, her eyes closing with pleasure.

Oh dear God, the way she moved...

But he had himself slow down, to enjoy every second of this little game she had set out for them to play. He traced a line of soft kisses from the side of her face, just beneath her ear, down her throat towards the collar of her dress. The old fashioned, modest design soon impeded his progress.

Gently, his fingers teased open the small buttons beneath her chin, allowing him to kiss the soft hollow of her throat, while his hand stroked along the lines of the lace apron, over her breasts, down along her sides to her waist. Anna's back arched in pleasure, her chest rising up to meet his, unwittingly allowing him to unfasten the strings of the apron, pulling it loose and tugging it over her head.

Her hands slid over him, down towards the hem of his undershirt, easing their way inside his clothing to run up over his stomach and chest, fingertips teasing through his hair. The cool soft touch against his body made him instantly hard, swollen with longing for her.

Anna sighed, her eyes flickering open to meet his.

"You feel so good," she murmured softly. "Just as good as I imagined, as I dreamed..."

A flash of heat spread through John's body at the idea of Anna thinking about him in that way.

"What did you imagine?"

"About how it would feel to have your hands against my skin... running over me..."

Oh his wife was wicked, there was no doubt about it, and John was thankful beyond measure for it. He slid his hand down to find the hem of her dress, easing his way beneath and sliding the palm of his hand up over her soft, shapely legs.

"Oh Mr Bates... your touch feels so good..."

"Tell me how good," he growled, sliding further up towards her thighs. He felt her body contract with pleasure as his thumb teased along the sensitive insides of her legs.

Anna licked her lips, leaned her head up to whisper in his ear.

"Your fingers feel so much better there than mine did..."

His imagination on fire, images sweeping through his mind, John fought a valiant battle for his self control, feeling a wave of pure hunger rush through his veins at the idea of his wife stroking herself while thinking of him, wanting him and dreaming of his touch. Anna's hands reached for his shirt, dragging it over his head, desperate to feel his body against hers.

He struggled to his knees, his hands seized at the hem of her dress, pulling it up over her head to reveal her, laid out in her slip, writhing and wanton on their bed.

Their bed. Their marriage bed.

Gazing down at her, John shuddered, wrestled back his self control, removing his hands from her legs.

"Show me..."

Anna moaned in protest at the loss of his touch. Gently, John took her hand, laid it against her bare thigh, unfolding her fingers from her clenched fist of frustration. Her eyes flickered open to meet his.

"Show me...?"

His voice was a plea, his eyes filled with longing, and Anna couldn't refuse him, had no intention of denying him anything he wanted tonight. Lightly, she slid her own finger tips up her leg, the sensation of her own cool touch teasing against every nerve ending in her thigh, mesmerised by the expression on her husband's face.

The sight of Anna, so confident and in control of her wants and desires, was the most erotic thing John had ever seen.

His own hand lingered around her knees, aching to follow, waiting...

As her fingertips brushed against her underwear, Anna slowed her movements.

"Don't stop..." John muttered. "Take them off..."

Anna did so, sliding the garment down her long, shapely legs. John swallowed a whimper of desire at the sight of his wife, almost naked in his bed, in their bed. He was caught by surprise when Anna slid her fingers up her thigh, dipping them into the soft, moist folds between her legs.

He couldn't wait much longer. His own hands eased up her legs, his touch a shade firmer, slowly kneading with his thumbs. Lightly, he brushed the pad of one thumb across the damp folds of her sex. Anna's hips bucked and she groaned beneath his attentions.

He leaned over her, settling between her thighs and bending down to teethe at her nipples, already stiff beneath the thin cotton of her slip. She cried out, a small shriek of pleasure at the sensitive touch, her legs coiling around his. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer to her.

"Oh... Mr Bates..."

"Oh Anna... please... call me John..."

"I want you ... John..."

Her hands slid down his back, round to his waist, pushing off the shorts he wore. The sensation of Anna's nakedness against his loins was more than John could bear, he couldn't wait any longer. Tugging the hem of her slip up over her head, he feasted his eyes upon his wife, laid beneath him, begging for him to make love to her again.

"Please John..."

As slowly as he could bear to, John slid into her, groaning softly at the slick, wet sensation as she surrounded him, her own voice catching in her throat, a deep moan of pleasure and satisfaction. Her hands gripped at his shoulders, her nails digging into him, a sensation that sparked fireworks in his blood. He loved to see her like this, to feel her lose control as he moved within her.

"Oh John... yes..."

The sound of his given name, falling from her lips like a prayer, was like riches to him. The feel of her legs, twining around his, was better than any dream he had ever had. Kissing and nipping at her throat, laving at her skin with his tongue, John surrendered to the natural rhythm of her movements, feeling her heat rise, letting his own blood sing in response to her sweetness, the soft sounds of excitement slipping from her lips.

He felt her tense around him, the long remember sensation of her quivering against him from their wedding night, felt himself succumb with a roar to his own heights of pleasure as she cried out his name once more.

The sound of their breathing mingled with the inaudible hum beneath both of their skins, the sensation of passion receding, pleasure simmering down once more, the slick touch of their hands against each other, their skin damp with sated longing. Moving to lie beside her, John pulled Anna's unresisting body into his arms, feeling her sigh and snuggle against him, her arm snaking around his waist.

"Oh my goodness..." she murmured softly.

"I know," he breathed, feeling his own ravaged breathing settle in his chest.

"John that was... more than I ever dreamed."

With a kiss on her forehead, John gazed down into her face, amazement shining in her cheeks, eyes and smile.

"Someday my love, I look forward to knowing even more about what you dreamed."

A shy smile spread over Anna's face.

"You never know," she giggled, teasing. "Perhaps I'll write you some more notes."

Sleepiness overtook both of them as they snuggled down together. Mentally, John added 'more writing paper' to the list of presents he intended to spoil her with for her birthday.


End file.
